Can AI help create “smart borders” between countries?
In 2016, border patrols in Greece, Latvia and Hungary received a prototype for an AI-powered lie detector to help screen asylum seekers. The detector, called iBorderCtrl, was funded by the European Commission in hopes to eventually mitigate refugee crises like the one sparked by the Syrian civil war a year prior.
iBorderCtrl, which analyzes micro expressions in the face, received but one slice of the Commission’s €34.9 billion border control and migration management budget. Still in development is the more ambitious EuMigraTool, a predictive AI system that will process internet news and social media posts to estimate not only the number of migrants heading for a particular country, but also the “risks of tensions between migrants and EU citizens.”
Both iBorderCtrl and EuMigraTool are part of a broader trend: the growing digitization of migration-related technologies. Outside of the EU, in refugee camps in Jordan, the United Nations introduced iris scanning software to distribute humanitarian aid, including food and medicine. And in the United States, Customs and Border Protection has attempted to automate its services through an app called CBP One, which both travelers and asylum seekers can use to apply for I-94 forms, the arrival-departure record cards for people who are not U.S. citizens or permanent residents.
According to Koen Leurs, professor of gender, media and migration studies at Utrecht University in the Netherlands, we have arrived at a point where migration management has become so reliant on digital technology that the former can no longer be studied in isolation from the latter. Investigating this reliance for his new book, Digital Migration, Leurs came to the conclusion that applications like those mentioned above are more often than not a double-edged sword, presenting both benefits and drawbacks.
There has been “a huge acceleration” in the way digital technologies “dehumanize people,” says Koen Leurs, professor of gender, media and migration studies at Utrecht University in the Netherlands. Governments treat asylum seekers as test subjects for new inventions, all along the borders of the developed world.
On the one hand, digital technology can make migration management more efficient and less labor intensive, enabling countries to process larger numbers of people in a time when global movement is on the rise due to globalization and political instability. Leurs also discovered that informal knowledge networks such as Informed Immigrant, an online resource that connects migrants to social workers and community organizers, have positively impacted the lives of their users. The same, Leurs notes, is true of platforms like Twitter, Facebook, and WhatsApp, all of which migrants use to stay in touch with each other as well as their families back home. “The emotional support you receive through social media is something we all came to appreciate during the COVID pandemic,” Leurs says. “For refugees, this had already been common knowledge for years.”
On the flipside, automatization of migration management – particularly through the use of AI – has spawned extensive criticism from human rights activists. Sharing their sentiment, Leurs attests that many so-called innovations are making life harder for migrants, not easier. He also says there has been “a huge acceleration” in the way digital technologies “dehumanize people,” and that governments treat asylum seekers as test subjects for new inventions, all along the borders of the developed world.
In Jordan, for example, refugees had to scan their irises in order to collect aid, prompting the question of whether such measures are ethical. Speaking to Reuters, Petra Molnar, a fellow at Harvard University’s Berkman Klein Center for Internet and Society, said that she was troubled by the fact that this experiment was done on marginalized people. “The refugees are guinea pigs,” she said. “Imagine what would happen at your local grocery store if all of a sudden iris scanning became a thing,” she pointed out. “People would be up in arms. But somehow it is OK to do it in a refugee camp.”
Artificial intelligence programs have been scrutinized for their unreliability, their complex processing, thwarted by the race and gender biases picked up from training data. In 2019, a female reporter from The Intercept tested iBorderCtrl and, despite answering all questions truthfully, was accused by the machine of lying four out of 16 times. Had she been waiting at checkpoint on the Greek or Latvian border, she would have been flagged for additional screening – a measure that could jeopardize her chance of entry. Because of its biases, and the negative press that this attracted, iBorderCtrl did not move past its test phase.
While facial recognition caused problems on the European border, it was helpful in Ukraine, where programs like those developed by software company Clearview AI are used to spot Russian spies, identify dead soldiers, and check movement in and out of war zones.
In April 2021, not long after iBorderCtrl was shut down, the European Commission proposed the world’s first-ever legal framework for AI regulation: the Artificial Intelligence Act. The act, which is still being developed, promises to prevent potentially “harmful” AI practices from being used in migration management. In the most recent draft, approved by the European Parliament’s Liberties and Internal Market committees, the ban included emotion recognition systems (like iBorderCtrl), predictive policing systems (like EUMigraTool), and biometric categorization systems (like iris scanners). The act also stipulates that AI must be subject to strict oversight and accountability measures.
While some worry the AI Act is not comprehensive enough, others wonder if it is in fact going too far. Indeed, many proponents of machine learning argue that, by placing a categorical ban on certain systems, governments will thwart the development of potentially useful technology. While facial recognition caused problems on the European border, it was helpful in Ukraine, where programs like those developed by software company Clearview AI are used to spot Russian spies, identify dead soldiers, and check movement in and out of war zones.
Instead of flat-out banning AI, why not strive to make it more reliable? “One of the most compelling arguments against AI is that it is inherently biased,” says Vera Raposo, an assistant professor of law at NOVA University in Lisbon specializing in digital law. “In truth, AI itself is not biased; it becomes biased due to human influence. It seems that complete eradication of biases is unattainable, but mitigation is possible. We can strive to reduce biases by employing more comprehensive and unbiased data in AI training and encompassing a wider range of individuals. We can also work on developing less biased algorithms, although this is challenging given that coders, being human, inherently possess biases of their own.”
AI is most effective when it enhances human performance rather than replacing it.
Accessibility is another obstacle that needs to be overcome. Leurs points out that, in migration management, AI often functions as a “black box” because the migration officers operating it are unable to comprehend its complex decision-making process and thus unable to scrutinize its results. One solution to this problem is to have law enforcement work closely with AI experts. Alternatively, machine learning could be limited to gathering and summarizing information, leaving evaluation of that information to actual people.
Raposo agrees AI is most effective when it enhances human performance rather than replacing it. On the topic of transparency, she does note that making an AI that is both sophisticated and easy to understand is a little bit like having your cake and eating it too. “In numerous domains,” she explains, “we might need to accept a reduced level of explainability in exchange for a high degree of accuracy (assuming we cannot have both).” Using healthcare as an analogy, she adds that “some medications work in ways not fully understood by either doctors or pharma companies, yet persist due to demonstrated efficacy in clinical trials.”
Leurs believes digital technologies used in migration management can be improved through a push for more conscientious research. “Technology is a poison and a medicine for that poison,” he argues, which is why new tech should be developed with its potential applications in mind. “Ethics has become a major concern in recent years. Increasingly, and particularly in the study of forced migration, researchers are posing critical questions like ‘what happens with the data that is gathered?’ and ‘who will this harm?’” In some cases, Leurs thinks, that last question may need to be reversed: we should be thinking about how we can actively disarm oppressive structures. “After all, our work should align with the interests of the communities it is going to affect.”
This man spent over 70 years in an iron lung. What he was able to accomplish is amazing.
It’s a sight we don’t normally see these days: A man lying prone in a big, metal tube with his head sticking out of one end. But it wasn’t so long ago that this sight was unfortunately much more common.
In the first half of the 20th century, tens of thousands of people each year were infected by polio—a highly contagious virus that attacks nerves in the spinal cord and brainstem. Many people survived polio, but a small percentage of people who did were left permanently paralyzed from the virus, requiring support to help them breathe. This support, known as an “iron lung,” manually pulled oxygen in and out of a person’s lungs by changing the pressure inside the machine.
Paul Alexander was one of several thousand who were infected and paralyzed by polio in 1952. That year, a polio epidemic swept the United States, forcing businesses to close and polio wards in hospitals all over the country to fill up with sick children. When Paul caught polio in the summer of 1952, doctors urged his parents to let him rest and recover at home, since the hospital in his home suburb of Dallas, Texas was already overrun with polio patients.
Paul rested in bed for a few days with aching limbs and a fever. But his condition quickly got worse. Within a week, Paul could no longer speak or swallow, and his parents rushed him to the local hospital where the doctors performed an emergency procedure to help him breathe. Paul woke from the surgery three days later, and found himself unable to move and lying inside an iron lung in the polio ward, surrounded by rows of other paralyzed children.
Hospitals were commonly filled with polio patients who had been paralyzed by the virus before a vaccine became widely available in 1955. Associated Press
Paul struggled inside the polio ward for the next 18 months, bored and restless and needing to hold his breath when the nurses opened the iron lung to help him bathe. The doctors on the ward frequently told his parents that Paul was going to die.But against all odds, Paul lived. And with help from a physical therapist, Paul was able to thrive—sometimes for small periods outside the iron lung.
The way Paul did this was to practice glossopharyngeal breathing (or as Paul called it, “frog breathing”), where he would trap air in his mouth and force it down his throat and into his lungs by flattening his tongue. This breathing technique, taught to him by his physical therapist, would allow Paul to leave the iron lung for increasing periods of time.
With help from his iron lung (and for small periods of time without it), Paul managed to live a full, happy, and sometimes record-breaking life. At 21, Paul became the first person in Dallas, Texas to graduate high school without attending class in person, owing his success to memorization rather than taking notes. After high school, Paul received a scholarship to Southern Methodist University and pursued his dream of becoming a trial lawyer and successfully represented clients in court.
Paul Alexander, pictured here in his early 20s, mastered a type of breathing technique that allowed him to spend short amounts of time outside his iron lung. Paul Alexander
Paul practiced law in North Texas for more than 30 years, using a modified wheelchair that held his body upright. During his career, Paul even represented members of the biker gang Hells Angels—and became so close with them he was named an honorary member.Throughout his long life, Paul was also able to fly on a plane, visit the beach, adopt a dog, fall in love, and write a memoir using a plastic stick to tap out a draft on a keyboard. In recent years, Paul joined TikTok and became a viral sensation with more than 330,000 followers. In one of his first videos, Paul advocated for vaccination and warned against another polio epidemic.
Paul was reportedly hospitalized with COVID-19 at the end of February and died on March 11th, 2024. He currently holds the Guiness World Record for longest survival inside an iron lung—71 years.
Polio thankfully no longer circulates in the United States, or in most of the world, thanks to vaccines. But Paul continues to serve as a reminder of the importance of vaccination—and the power of the human spirit.
““I’ve got some big dreams. I’m not going to accept from anybody their limitations,” he said in a 2022 interview with CNN. “My life is incredible.”
When doctors couldn’t stop her daughter’s seizures, this mom earned a PhD and found a treatment herself.
Twenty-eight years ago, Tracy Dixon-Salazaar woke to the sound of her daughter, two-year-old Savannah, in the midst of a medical emergency.
“I entered [Savannah’s room] to see her tiny little body jerking about violently in her bed,” Tracy said in an interview. “I thought she was choking.” When she and her husband frantically called 911, the paramedic told them it was likely that Savannah had had a seizure—a term neither Tracy nor her husband had ever heard before.
Over the next several years, Savannah’s seizures continued and worsened. By age five Savannah was having seizures dozens of times each day, and her parents noticed significant developmental delays. Savannah was unable to use the restroom and functioned more like a toddler than a five-year-old.
Doctors were mystified: Tracy and her husband had no family history of seizures, and there was no event—such as an injury or infection—that could have caused them. Doctors were also confused as to why Savannah’s seizures were happening so frequently despite trying different seizure medications.
Doctors eventually diagnosed Savannah with Lennox-Gaustaut Syndrome, or LGS, an epilepsy disorder with no cure and a poor prognosis. People with LGS are often resistant to several kinds of anti-seizure medications, and often suffer from developmental delays and behavioral problems. People with LGS also have a higher chance of injury as well as a higher chance of sudden unexpected death (SUDEP) due to the frequent seizures. In about 70 percent of cases, LGS has an identifiable cause such as a brain injury or genetic syndrome. In about 30 percent of cases, however, the cause is unknown.
Watching her daughter struggle through repeated seizures was devastating to Tracy and the rest of the family.
“This disease, it comes into your life. It’s uninvited. It’s unannounced and it takes over every aspect of your daily life,” said Tracy in an interview with Today.com. “Plus it’s attacking the thing that is most precious to you—your kid.”
Desperate to find some answers, Tracy began combing the medical literature for information about epilepsy and LGS. She enrolled in college courses to better understand the papers she was reading.
“Ironically, I thought I needed to go to college to take English classes to understand these papers—but soon learned it wasn’t English classes I needed, It was science,” Tracy said. When she took her first college science course, Tracy says, she “fell in love with the subject.”
Tracy was now a caregiver to Savannah, who continued to have hundreds of seizures a month, as well as a full-time student, studying late into the night and while her kids were at school, using classwork as “an outlet for the pain.”
“I couldn’t help my daughter,” Tracy said. “Studying was something I could do.”
Twelve years later, Tracy had earned a PhD in neurobiology.
After her post-doctoral training, Tracy started working at a lab that explored the genetics of epilepsy. Savannah’s doctors hadn’t found a genetic cause for her seizures, so Tracy decided to sequence her genome again to check for other abnormalities—and what she found was life-changing.
Tracy discovered that Savannah had a calcium channel mutation, meaning that too much calcium was passing through Savannah’s neural pathways, leading to seizures. The information made sense to Tracy: Anti-seizure medications often leech calcium from a person’s bones. When doctors had prescribed Savannah calcium supplements in the past to counteract these effects, her seizures had gotten worse every time she took the medication. Tracy took her discovery to Savannah’s doctor, who agreed to prescribe her a calcium blocker.
The change in Savannah was almost immediate.
Within two weeks, Savannah’s seizures had decreased by 95 percent. Once on a daily seven-drug regimen, she was soon weaned to just four, and then three. Amazingly, Tracy started to notice changes in Savannah’s personality and development, too.
“She just exploded in her personality and her talking and her walking and her potty training and oh my gosh she is just so sassy,” Tracy said in an interview.
Since starting the calcium blocker eleven years ago, Savannah has continued to make enormous strides. Though still unable to read or write, Savannah enjoys puzzles and social media. She’s “obsessed” with boys, says Tracy. And while Tracy suspects she’ll never be able to live independently, she and her daughter can now share more “normal” moments—something she never anticipated at the start of Savannah’s journey with LGS. While preparing for an event, Savannah helped Tracy get ready.
“We picked out a dress and it was the first time in our lives that we did something normal as a mother and a daughter,” she said. “It was pretty cool.”